CHAPTER 227: LOOKING DESIRABLE (18+)

He pulled back just an inch, breath ragged, their foreheads pressed together, rain still falling around them.

"Jean... if we do this... it’s not just a desire for me. I can’t be gentle tonight just because you ask. I love you. And it will show. Every kiss, every touch. Are you ready for that?"

Jean’s eyes glistened, not just from the rain but from something fonder, deeper... an answer he’d been too afraid to hope for.

"Then show me, Logan," she whispered, voice shaking but sure. "Show me how love is supposed to feel."

The rain drummed on Logan’s shoulders, soaking them both to the bone, but none of it registered. All he could taste was Jean... rain sweetened lips, trembling breath, her heart hammering against his chest in time with his own.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them gasping for air, Jean’s cheeks were flushed, strands of wet hair stuck to her face, her eyes dark with something raw and vulnerable.

God, she’s beautiful...

Before she could change her mind, before the world could come crashing back in, Logan bent his head, pressing a last, softer kiss to her parted lips. A silent promise.

Then, without another word, he swept her off her feet, his arms curling under her knees and around her shoulders. Jean let out a small, breathless gasp, her fingers tightening on his soaked shirt, her lips parting as she blinked up at him.

"Logan..."

"Don’t speak," he murmured, voice husky and low, the rain dripping from his jaw. "You’ll make me forget how to walk."

She let out a soft smile that broke something heavy in his chest.

Cradling her close, Logan strode through the rain slicked garden path, every step steady, determined. The elevator door at the end of the corridor glowed like a promise.

With Jean clinging to him, Logan’s heartbeat felt too loud, too fast. When the elevator doors slid open, he stepped in, his shoes leaving wet prints on the floor, water pooling around them.

Their reflections shimmered in the mirrored walls... Logan, breathless and drenched, eyes dark with desire; Jean in his arms, wet hair spilling over his elbow, chest rising and falling quickly.

As the doors closed, sealing them away from the world, Logan’s gaze found hers again.

"You look so desirable Jean, I almost want this night to never end." He whispered roughly, voice almost breaking.

Jean didn’t speak, breathing heavily for air. She simply nodded once... small, resolute... her hand sliding up to curl against his jaw.

And in that silent answer, Logan felt every last shred of his restraint begin to crack.

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As soon as the elevator doors whispered shut, Logan set Jean down onto her trembling feet.

Before she could catch a breath, his hands framed her face, tilting it up and he crashed his mouth onto hers, urgent, hungry, desperate.

Jean gasped softly against him, her back brushing the cold mirrored wall, her hands fisting in his soaked shirt. The rain had chilled their skin, but every touch of his burned hot.

Logan’s palms slid down, gliding over the delicate slope of her waist, the curve of her hips. His fingertips dug in, as though to remind himself she was real... here, wanting him, choosing him.

Fuck! She’s so soft... so warm... mine.

Jean arched closer, and Logan’s breath hitched, a low growl vibrating in his chest as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues tangling, teeth grazing, heat blooming everywhere their wet bodies met.

For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist.

Just the quiet hum of the elevator rising.

Just his mouth claiming hers, again and again, until they were both dizzy.

His hands roamed over her back, memorizing every line, every shiver. When his fingers brushed the delicate dip of her spine, Jean let out a shaky breath against his lips and Logan felt his resolve crack even further.

"Jean," he rasped against her mouth, voice hoarse, almost pained. "Tell me to stop. If you want me to, tell me now."

But her only answer was to press closer, her palms splayed over his pounding heart, her lips parting in a silent plea.

That was all it took.

Logan cupped the back of her neck, holding her in place as he kissed her again, slower this time. A bruising, molten heat that made them both forget the rain, the scars, the past.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, but neither of them heard it. Logan barely noticed carrying her out into the dimly lit living area, the rain still streaking down the wide windows behind them.

Jean’s breath came in shaky bursts, her gaze locked on his pupils wide and dark with want.

He set her down, and for a heartbeat, they stood there... just breathing, chests heaving, soaked clothes clinging to their skin.

Then Logan reached for her, his fingers brushing the wet strap of her dress from her shoulder. Jean’s hands lifted too, trembling slightly as she found the hem of his shirt, tugging it up.

Fabric slid away, wet and heavy, thudding to the floor. Rainwater dripped from Logan’s dark hair as he looked down at her, chest bare, muscles taut with restraint and desire.

Jean swallowed, her own dress clinging to every curve. Logan caught the faintest tremor of hesitation in her fingers, so he moved slower, giving her time to pull away but she didn’t. Instead, she helped him, guiding his hand to the zipper at her back.

The sound of it lowering seemed to echo in the quiet living room.

Jean’s dress fell, pooling at her feet. She stood before him, vulnerable yet unafraid... every scar, every curve, every soft shadow illuminated by the muted city lights outside.

Logan sucked in a sharp breath. His hands hovered for a second, as if afraid to touch.

"You’re beautiful," he whispered, voice raw, almost reverent.

Jean’s lips quivered into a faint smile, and she stepped closer, her palms pressing flat against his chest. Fingers exploring the lines of muscle, the warmth of his skin, the pounding of his heart under her touch.

"Show me everything you feel for me, Logan. Don’t hold back anymore."